Danger is Sweet: the 97th Hunger Games
by Errabundus
Summary: There's nothing like a little bit of danger to get the adrenaline pumping. Whether that's accidentally missing a step and almost falling down the stairs, to a bloodthirsty eighteen year old swinging a sword towards your head. The 97th Hunger Games are starting. Do you have what it takes to get home safe? [SUMMARISED SYOT]
1. Prologue

Prologue One

**[Horatio Numquae, 23  
Hopeful Gamemaker]**

The library sits in plain sight; a towering building of white brick, yet in all the years he's been visiting, Horatio has never seen more than maybe twenty visitors at one time. Maybe it's because of the multitude of floors, that he just misses people because they're all spread out, but it isn't uncommon for him to go from floor to floor, pacing through the bookshelves and not see anyone.

Study rooms remain empty, books remain shelved and Horatio just doesn't understand it. They have almost infinite knowledge at their fingertips, yet the Capitol citizens just stroll on by as if that doesn't matter. If the library closed tomorrow, he wouldn't put it past people to just not notice, to marvel at whatever coffee shop fills the library's space. He'll happily bet that there will be queues out of the door for that. For mediocre coffee that everybody seems to love and rave about but that he's never understood the fuss.

Besides, these coffee shops popping up everywhere don't seem to have grasped the concept of dairy-free milk yet. He's not sure his gut will ever forgive him if he downs a latte with lactose galore.

_Books, _he thinks, _I'm here for books, not bitter thoughts of coffee shops._

His fingers run across the spines of books as he paces the shelves, some volumes already tucked under his arm. Horatio can't say that he's always been the most studious person, but he's probably the most regular visitor to the library.

Especially in the past few weeks; his game making test is coming up, and he's not about to flunk it. His parents paid for him to attend the same prestigious private school as Gamemakers before him, he studied his entire school career to be able to join the team and now that it is finally happening, he aced the interview with the Head Gamemaker a few weeks ago, he isn't about to slack off now. If Horatio doesn't pass this test, if he doesn't make the team, the what's the point? He's never entertained any other career path; everything has pointed towards this; an unwavering passion for the designs of arenas and mutts that he sees every year.

So, if he wants to do well, he must study. He's been looking up past papers, reaching out to those who had already taken the tests. Physics, chemistry, maths… all of it is relevant. He needs to know how to think quick on his feet, how to put a stop to any problem that may arise during the Games. How to build the structure, how to make sure it can support itself.

There's so much work that people don't realise goes on. So many unseen heroes in the background making sure that everything goes smoothly.

There have been mutt failures, arena collapses, and all sorts in the long history of the Hunger Games. Horatio doesn't intend to let that happen on his watch and hopefully Reynolds Petrioli, the newly appointed Head Gamemaker, will agree with him.

And Horatio's had a lot of questions about why he didn't apply for Reynolds' position; he'd surely get it if he applied, they say, so why didn't he?

Because he doesn't want that. He doesn't want all of the praise that he doesn't quite deserve. Sure, being Head Gamemaker is tough, but they're not the Games. Not any more at least. They might be the face of them, but they're not the ones clocking in at 4AM to finish something they hadn't been able to last night. They're not the ones who scribble pages and pages of equations, sketch the diagrams of the arena, or agonise over faults in the structure that they can't seem to fix without causing more problems.

So, when he goes home at night, exhausted to the bone, Horatio wants to know that he deserves the deep sleep he'll fall into when he finally reaches his bed. He wants to feel the cramps in his hand as his pen moves and moves and moves. He wants to come home knowing that he deserves the praise that his close friends and co-workers will give him; he wants to leave that building everyday knowing that he did his best.

When his future children grow up, he wants them to know that he did the best for them. That he works himself to the bone because he wants to provide them with what they want.

And if that comes at the expense of twenty-three lives a year then so be it. It's their ancestors' fault after all; the district scum deserve it. He'll only be doing what's expected of him, after all.

No one can blame him for that.

Horatio takes a seat at one of the mahogany wood tables, dropping the stack of books he'd collected over the past half an hour. Autobiographies of the Victors, the Gamemakers, books about the Games in general, the uprising… anything that had ties to the Games he'd picked. If he wants to get onto this team then he needs to know what he's talking about. There are eighty applicants going up for twenty spots, thousands of people's dreams already crushed by this stage.

Horatio Numquae isn't going to become one of them.

He doesn't notice the time passing as his eyes scan the pages and he neatly writes notes about what he's learning. Only when the librarian is making her final rounds and asks him to leave does he realise just how late it is—surprised by the pitch black that greets him when he looks out of the window—and he gathers up the books, gets them stamped out, and hurries back home before his family start to worry.

His shoulder aches with the weight that he's carrying as he powerwalks through the streets. _It's worth it, _he reminds himself, _it's so worth it. _

After a quick dinner, he retreats to his room where he sits hunched over the books well into the early hours of the morning, swept away by the tide of knowledge contained within the thin pages.

He has ten days until his test. Ten days to learn as much as he can.

He can do it. Horatio Numquae isn't a quitter. He's not a loser. In two weeks, he'll more than likely be a Gamemaker.

That thought makes him almost too excited to speak.

Gamemaker Horatio Numquae, first of his family.

It definitely has a ring to it.

* * *

**Welcome to my new SYOT! Here we have just a quick prologue, something to hopefully generate interest. **

**I'm going to be taking submissions through a Google Form, with the link on my profile. I would like to make it clear that it is not a first come first serve SYOT; whilst I'll accept those who I like and who I think will make a good fit for the story, I don't want to take tributes that I have no plans for or will struggle to write just for the sake of filling spots. For this reason I'll allow three submissions per person, with one being a bloodbath. This doesn't necessarily mean that I will accept all three, but I will try to not just accept the bloodbath character and not one of the other two as well.**

**Thank you for reading and I hope that you find my story promising enough to submit!**

**I'd love to know what you think about Mr. Horatio Numquae in this chapter; it's only a short snippet, I know, but you'll definitely see more from him soon!**

_**-Errabundus**_


	2. Character Introductions One

Character Introductions One

[**Niello Forbin, 18  
****District One Male.]**

_Three days before the reaping_

He can barely find a word to express his anger when he found out that he wasn't the first pick for the male volunteer that year. After training his ass off for years, putting 100% into everything he did, they were just going to throw him to the wayside in lieu of eighteen-year-old Vine Lewis? The guy who Niello could more than likely take one handed with his eyes shut? The only good thing about the situation was the smugness he felt as he heard his father yelling down the phone later that night after being informed of the news, and the pleasure the next day when the, rather flustered, head trainer called them into the gym and announced that they'd made a mistake and that Niello was the one who was going to represent the district in the Games this year.

The was little applause as Niello stood up at the mention of his name, and he heard the whispers about there being foul play on his part, but that didn't bother him as much as it usually might have. If they don't appreciate him then fine. It'll be them who will be wrong because Niello knows he'll return victorious, and the most popular victor ever. The Capitol will love him, his father is sure of it. And the win will be easy; the unskilled outer district tributes will be easy kills, and the other career can't be that hard. He's watched other tributes less skilled than he is take down Career packs by themselves. He could probably manage it with his eyes closed.

Hell, he'll be their leader and they'll have to do what he says anyway. He could send two of them away and slaughter the other two, the second pair meeting the same fate when they return. That'll only leave one, and he's fairly sure that if he can take down the others he can find a way to deal with the other one. Maybe kill them first, pretending that they're going to go hunting for other tributes. He and his father have talked about a lot of plans whenever his father is free, which to be fair, isn't often.

Niello has got this in the bag; he's sure of it. The other tributes will be begging for his mercy. He'll be the most talked-about tribute in the whole of Panem.

Three days before the reaping, he's ecstatic as he trains. It's all going so well, and he's just waiting for Reaping Day to roll around, waiting for the time when all eyes in Panem are focused solely on him standing on that stage, proud and ready to get the thing over and done with and be home as soon as possible. Once he's Victor, he'll be able to do and buy whatever he wants. Whilst money has never been an issue for him in his life, it'll be nice to have even more and he can't wait to be recognised walking around the district. For first-year students in the academy to gawk at him in the halls and ask for him to sign their training kit shirts that they'll later display when they've grown out of it.

_Look who's signed it! _They'll gush to anyone who will listen. _The best Victor ever! Niello Forbin! _

And it's so crazy that the academy was even thinking of not allowing him this pleasure. He's glad that the head trainer lost their job for making such a foolish decision, and it was also fairly satisfying to see Vine Lewis crying in the locker rooms after the announcement. _It serves him right_, Niello thinks, _that'll teach him for stealing a place in the Games that is rightfully mine._

Some will say that he only got in because of his father's influence, some will say that he doesn't deserve the spot in the slightest, some will say that they'll be glad to see him go. He pretends that these people are standing in the place of the punching bag he's pummelling. They're clearly just jealous that Niello's parents are willing to point out the injustices of the system, that they're willing to fight for him. They're just jealous that Niello will steal the thunder that he deserves. Jealous because it's not them.

He's disgustingly sweaty and out of breath when he decides to take a break and move onto something less exerting. He's fairly confident about his ability to beat the shit out of anyone who might cross him in the arena. Maybe it'll be an idea to take someone down with his bare hands before anyone has even managed to get their hands on any weapons in the bloodbath; that'd for sure be a kill worth talking about. One that'll get him into the good books of Panem (besides maybe the district of whatever unfortunate tribute it might end up being) before the fun has really begun.

God, he can feel the excitement rising in him as he thinks forward to the glory that he's going to gain in the next few weeks. He moves onto the archery station, where he's forced to clear his mind and focus a lot more. Getting excited for the Games is necessary, but if he lets himself get too excited now then the days will drag on and he'll be waiting for what feels like millennia before he's able to raise his hand.

The arrows mostly strike the bullseyes of the targets he aims at. When they don't, he lets his frustrations be known. Perfection is the only thing that's going to win him the eternal glory; he needs to be as perfect as he can to win the Capitol's support. Besides, the idiot outer district kids are notoriously scrappy, and he wants to be able to take out as many of them as possible as quickly as he can. The bow and arrow is a criminally underused weapon in the Games, Niello would argue, because the other weapons look cooler.

He doesn't care what the weapon looks like as long as it gets the job done. He'd rather be remembered for his kill, not the weapon that he was using.

"How are you feeling about the Games?" One of the trainers asks him, leaning against the rack of bows as Niello aims. He knows that the trainer is only trying to be nice, but he doesn't appreciate the unwanted chat when he's clearly trying to focus.

"I'm feeling that they'll be a lot easier than this," he says, his tone blunt. "Because then I won't have to talk to people I don't want to whilst trying to shoot at someone," then, letting the arrow fly, turning his head at the satisfying thud of the bullseye. "Go get my water bottle. It's in my bag." The trainer opens his mouth to argue, but Niello cuts him off. "Need I remind you who my father is?"

The trainer gapes for a few seconds but scampers off to get Niello's water bottle without another prompt. Niello smirks. He hadn't appreciated his father's government job when he was younger—after all, most of it was dealing with the organisation of the shitty outer-districts—but now, it came with its perks. Especially in the past few weeks when his father had exercised the full extent of his power over the academy.

When the trainer returns, Niello takes the bottle without thanks. He leans the bow up against the racks, not wanting to put in the little extra effort to actually put it back properly. He leaves the arrows in the target, smiling at the trainer who regards him hesitantly.

"I think I'm done for today, actually," he says. "I'll leave this for you to clean up, though. I don't want to tire myself out too much before the Games."

He strolls off, having to stifle laughter at the look on the trainer's face. It's clear that they're not used to being disrespected. But, soon enough, the trainer will be boasting about the interaction. _I got to clean up after Niello practiced archery only a few days before the Games! _He'll say. _I didn't realise how much of a privilege it was at first, but now I do. He let me stand in his presence. _

That trainer will see. Everyone at the academy will see. Niello just needs a few days in the arena to prove himself, and then everyone will be falling at his feet.

**[Kiera Drene, 18  
District Seven Female.]**

_Two weeks before the reaping_

When Kiera hears her younger brothers giggling outside of her door, she knows that they're up to something. If she knows them, then it'll be the plastic bear trap that they got for their birthday last year; a harmless prank item that their parents highly regret giving them. It's all fine when you hear them setting it up and you know that as soon as you step out the door the foam jaws will close on your ankle—although Kiera will still pretend to be surprised by this, and even pretend that it hurts depending on her mood—but when the tiny terrors set it up in the middle of the night and you don't see it as you open your door, it can actually scare the hell out of you. Kiera will never forget a few weeks ago when they thought it would be funny to set it up outside her room whilst her friend was over for the night. She's pretty sure that Linnet still hasn't forgiven them; she always tends to be alert every time she opens Kiera's bedroom door. Honestly, Kiera can't blame her, but she can't say that Linnet's terrified screams weren't the tiniest bit funny. Once she had calmed down, even Linnet had laughed.

The pranks had stopped for a while, mainly because of the tongue lashing the twins received from their parents and the confiscation of the bear trap. But now, it seems, that they've got it back, although whether they'd actually been given it back or they'd found out where their parents hid it Kiera doesn't know. Either way, it's in their possession and Kiera needs to steel herself for it because they're going to call her name at some point, or knock on her door and she's going to have to answer it and pretend to be shocked. It makes them laugh and it makes her laugh and nothing they do is ever meant maliciously. A fact that both Kiera and her parents have had to explain to the school on numerous occasions.

"Kiera!" Comes Trenton's high pitched voice a few minutes later. She has to stifle a laugh already, trying to fight it so that she'll look uninterested and unexpecting when she opens the door. "Kiera, can you come and help me with my homework? I'm stuck!"

"Sure thing, bud!" She calls back, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'll be out in a minute!"

Taking a deep breath, she opens her door and keeps her gaze up as she steps out. Sure enough, her foot lands on the pressure plate for the bear trap and the foam jaws make her yelp out in pretend surprise. Around the corner, her brothers burst into raucous laughter and she pretends, for a moment, that she's mad at them. She crosses her arms, raising her eyebrows at them as they peek at her.

"I told you it would work, Terrace!" Trenton says, elbowing his brother. Then, directed towards Kiera. "We totally got you! Mom said we could have it back just for this, 'cause we haven't played any pranks at school for two weeks, either. It's a record."

"Ah, well I guess this is alright then," Kiera says, letting out a small laugh. She bends down, pressing the button to release the jaws from her ankle. She snaps them back into place and hands it to Terrace. "Isn't Mom in bed, though?" She usually is, since she works night shifts. "You shouldn't be making this much noise or you'll wake her up. That wouldn't be good."

"That's a good point," Terrace says, frowning at Trenton. "She did say we could only have it until she woke up from her nap. If we're too loud, we'll wake her up." Kiera laughs as Trento just shrugs, grabbing the bear trap from Kiera's hands before shouting something about setting it up outside their neighbour's house.

Kiera sighs at that, as the pair of them disappear around the corner. They're lucky that everyone around here loves those tow boys, otherwise they'd probably find themselves in hot water more often than not. Whilst she appreciates her brothers' rambunctiousness, and their affinity for pranks can be quite funny at times, they're very good at taking things just a little bit too far and upsetting more people than making them laugh. The number of times that their mom has been called into the school for a meeting to discuss pranks that weren't perceived as funny is ridiculous, and that's only the times that Kiera hasn't been able to convince the teachers at lunchtime to let them off.

Honestly, she's surprised that they haven't been kicked out yet. She's hoping that as they grow up, they'll start to figure out what pranks are acceptable and which aren't. The bear trap is fine at home, but not so much outside the principal's office. There's a difference from jamming a piece of paper underneath someone's chair to make it wobble against pulling the chair out as someone's trying to sit down. Although she and her parents know that they don't mean any harm, it's hard to explain that sometimes.

She ventures out into the kitchen, where her dad is sat at the table reading the newspaper. It's relatively early, and she'll need to start getting ready for school soon. He looks up as she enters, giving her a small smile that she returns as she pours herself a bowl of cereal.

"Morning," he says when she sits down opposite him. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," she nods. "But the boys thought it would be funny to set the bear trap up outside my room. They just ran off towards the Birch's, so if we hear Mrs. Birch scream then I think you'd better start looking for a new house. She has to be close to reaching her limit with entertaining them, surely."

"Maybe you're right. Out in the middle of nowhere so they can bother nobody but us," he laughs, sipping his coffee. "Do you have work today after school? If you do, we can walk home together. I think our shifts should line up if you've been given your regular one."

Kiera shakes her head. "No, but Linnet and Yewe are coming home with me after school. Linnet needs to study for a test, and I want to show Yewe where I put the drawings that she gave me the other day. Thanks for the offer though."

"Your walls must be full of Yewe's drawings." her dad comments.

"Yeah, but it makes her happy to see them displayed and to be fair, they're really cool," she murmurs around a mouthful of cereal.

"And you'd better be studying for that test, too," he says, completely serious now. "I saw one of your teachers at the market the other day and he was busy telling me what a pleasure you are to teach, and how your grades are pretty good right now. They'd better stay that way."

"They will," she nods. She finishes her bowl of cereal, watching out of the window as her brothers chase each other around the garden. "I'd better go reign them in and get them ready for school," she says as she finishes washing up. "Have a good day at work, I'll see you later."

"Love you, Kiera. Have a good day at school. Keep the boys out of trouble if you can."

"Love you too, Dad. I'll try, but it's a lot easier said than done."

She watches him leave, and then goes outside to get her brothers in and get them ready. They make it to school on time by some miracle—they're definitely late more than early these days—and she tells them to behave themselves as she leaves them to find her own friends.

Surprisingly, the school day goes pretty well. The boys, for once, manage to stay out of trouble and Kiera collects them from their class without complaint from either their teacher, fellow students, or the twins themselves. Kiera lets them run ahead on the way home, hanging back to let them have their fun and so she can talk to her friends without them overhearing.

The studying is boring, but it's worth it to see the relief on Linnet's face when she finally starts to understand the material. And Yewe's excited squeal when she enters Kiera's room to see her drawings stuck up on the walls is worth the agonising over what drawing goes where.

"You're a good person," Linnet says, pulling Kiera into a sideways hug. "I hope you know that."

Kiera shrugs. "Thanks, Yewe. That means a lot. I try to be."

**[Whisper Tanner, 12  
****District Ten Female.]**

_A month before the reaping_

Whisper would say that she's good at dealing with the punches that life seems to always throw her family's way. First, the death of her father when Whisper is only six. Then, the poverty that comes afterwards; she, her two older siblings and their mother relegated to living in the loft of a family friends' barn, old mattresses void of blankets or bed frames because the Joneses are struggling too. When Whisper is eight, her older siblings move out. Midnight goes first, just after he turns eighteen, and Spirit, a year younger leaves a few months later, both of them getting jobs in the district centre. At first, things are good. They visit every few weeks and bring money with them because they've been earning well. But it only takes half a year for that to start drying up, and by that time they're already trapped in their jobs. The amount of overtime that they're putting in just to scrape by means that the visits stop, too.

So, three months ago when Whisper's mother falls ill, she steels herself for the worst. And when it happens, she's completely numb. The Joneses seem shocked at how well she handles it at only eleven, but it's not as if she hasn't had this happen before. It takes four days for Midnight to come and collect her, and together they make the five hour trip from their small community on the outskirts of Ten to the centre. She lays in the back of the wagon with her minimal belongings, watching the clouds and hoping that wherever her mother is, she's happy.

When they get back, he shows her to his room he rents before running off to work. She sits there, cross-legged on his floor, and finally weeps. It's short-lived; she's really not a crier, but even so, it feels good. She's asleep by the time he gets back, curled up on the floor since she doesn't want to steal his bed. Whisper wakes up the next morning to find Midnight gone already, no time for her, and also no food in his cupboard. The daughter of another worker, a girl of twelve called Jubilee, splits a buttered bread roll with her. The next two months are full of hunger, an aching back from the hard floor, and no education. Whisper only sees Spirit at their mother's funeral—her older sister is "too busy" to just drop by. Whisper comes to realise that she's very much an afterthought now.

But, this morning, when Midnight sat her down before he went off to work, she couldn't be prepared for what he tells her. And her first reaction when he tells her is laughter; she doesn't believe him. But when her laughs taper off and she looks at her older brother, the gravity of the situation sets in. She stands up so fast that her chair topples over, clenched fists shaking.

"You're sending me to the Community Home?!" She shouts, loud enough to make her brother jump. "What the fuck, Midnight?!" At this moment she's the complete opposite embodiment of her name. "I have a family, you can't just do that! Or do I mean nothing to you and Spirit? Huh?"

He doesn't respond, and at that moment, Whisper is close to seeing red. But she forces herself to keep herself at least somewhat collected, stalking over to the corner where her belongings are piled. She grabs her backpack, stuffs the essentials in and ignores her brother's calls as she slams his door behind her and stomps out of the house. Jubilee follows her, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Are you okay?" She asks, reaching out to place a hand on Whisper's shoulder when she stops, face in her hands behind a meat processing plant. "I heard you shouting," Jubilee continues when Whisper doesn't answer. "Midnight's a jerk if he's just going to do that to you."

"He always has been," Whisper spits, blinking back tears. She wants to believe that they're tears of anger, but she knows better even if she doesn't want to admit it to herself. She's not a crier. She's never been a crier. "Our mother would be so disappointed in the three of us, you know? She always said we'd only have each other after she dies, and here I am about to be shipped off. I'll bet they'll both forget that it's my birthday soon. I'll be twelve. I'll celebrate it alone. Alone in the fucking Community Home."

"When is it?" Jubilee asks. "I'll come and celebrate it with you. I promise."

"The day before Reaping Day," Whisper says solemnly. It's a shitty time to have a birthday, but it's not as if everything in her life is perfect. "I mean, they'll have the day off for Reaping Day, but I'll bet that they won't even come after the reaping is done. I could get reaped and they wouldn't bat an eyelid, probably."

"So… what are you going to do?" Jubilee's voice carries a twinge of worry. "You have your things. Are you planning on running away or something?"

Whisper shakes her head. She's not naïve enough to pretend that she knows enough to survive on the streets. She doesn't really know what the plan was, but she settles on: "I'll go to the Community Home myself. I'd rather give myself up than have my 'family' drag me there kicking and screaming. I don't need them."

"I'll walk there with you," Jubilee says, and slips her hand into Whisper's. They start walking, and Whisper feels as if she's about to throw up. "You know you don't deserve this, right? The world is just cruel."

Whisper just shrugs. Maybe she does in some twisted way. After all, she was the surprise baby, she was the one who's arrival pushed them closer to poverty, another mouth to feed and her mother unable to do anything because she was looking after Whisper. Her father was on the way to the centre to get her some medicine when he was killed, and Whisper was the one who was unable to get the medicine for her mother on time, resulting in her death. She was forced into her brother's care, eating his food and sleeping on his floor, causing his stress level to rise. Maybe she's cursed or something. She won't be surprised if something happens to the Community Home after she moves in.

They round the corner, and her blood runs cold when she spots both Midnight and Spirit hovering outside the Community Home. Jubilee bids her a soft goodbye, tears in her eyes and she pulls Whisper into a hug so tight that Whisper can barely break. "Good luck," she whispers. "I love you."

And it's been so long since someone has actually said those words to Whisper that the younger girl nearly breaks down in tears. She doesn't, though, managing somehow to keep herself under control. She whispers it back, wiping at her eyes as they pull apart. With a glance at Whisper's siblings, Jubilee squeezes Whisper's shoulder and walks off. Turning around, Whisper takes a deep breath and starts towards what should probably be considered her new home.

"Perrie, we need to talk to you." Spirit steps forward, holding her arm out.

"You don't get to call me that anymore," Whisper says. "Only family can."

"Whisper, you have to understand—"

"Understand what?" Whisper crosses her arms. "That my family don't want me? That I'm way too much of a burden for you two?"

"Whisper, it's not that you're a burden and it's not that we don't want you," Midnight sighs. "It's that we just can't afford it. I can't have you sleeping on the floor in my room, eating only morsels of food. You deserve better than that."

"I'd rather be starving with my family than well fed and alone!" Whisper cried, tears welling in her eyes that she lets fall. "Besides, I'll be able to get tesserae in a month. That'll help! Do—Do you even know what the Community home is like? I probably won't get enough food there, either," And she hates that she's crumbling, that she's not able to keep up the frosty exterior she had tried to put on, but she doesn't know what else to do. "Please, Midnight. I don't care about sleeping on the floor, I really don't. Let me stay."

Her older brother sighs and there's regret in his eyes and hope in Whisper's heart.

"We'll visit you," he says, and that crushes her.

That night in the Community Home, she cries herself to sleep for the first time in forever. She's alone and her parents would be so, so ashamed.

* * *

**Here we have the first set of tributes. District One's arrogant Niello Forbin submitted by Dyloccupy, District Seven's kind Kiera Drene submitted by Dragonofthestars1429 and District Ten's tragic Whisper Tanner submitted by Nemestrinus. I hope that you enjoyed this introductory chapter and I'd love to know what you think of these three tributes. **

**The form to submit is on my profile, so if you are so inclined please go and take a look. **

**I wanted this chapter up last night, but I'm in the UK and, well... we didn't have such a good night. But here we are. Hopefully there will be a shorter wait between this chapter and the next than the prologue and this one. I'm heading home for Christmas Break tomorrow, so that'll be fun. I have so much to do but I'm hoping to be able to get a few chapters out depending on how many tributes are submitted. I'll also start working on the blog at some point!**

**Thank you so much for reading!**

_**-Errabundus**_


	3. Character Introductions Two

Character introductions Two

[**Evangeline "Evan" Burrell, 13**  
**District Eight Female].**

_Six months before the reaping_

Her aunt Elizabeth is perhaps the most despicable person that Evan knows. To everyone else she's almost perfect; a fresh face in the world of politics ready to tackle the problems that the district faces, juggling that with the raising of her own kids and her wayward niece, whilst remaining an active member of the community. But to Evan she's a liar, ready to throw her own brother under the bus in order to look better. She uses other people's situations for her own gain—Evan is a testament to that. And she really doesn't care about District Eight as much as she cares about being mayor. She cares about people liking her, about people voting for her. Not about Evan or the districts.

They're just pawns to her. But Evan is determined to make the game as difficult as possible. It's almost certain that her aunt will be voted in next month when the polls open and that'll be a success story. But rehabilitating her wayward niece? Evan is definitely going to make that harder.

From the amount of newspapers her aunt has gone to, splashing Evan's life across the front page, she's sure that everyone knows of her father's drug problem by now. And the fact that he used to leave Evan alone all day, and that they were homeless for four months before everything ended in her father dying. That was when her aunt Elizabeth stepped in, plucking Evan out from the Community Home and starting to use her to bolster her own political career. They'll know about the weekly therapy sessions, the changing of Evan's name to Evangeline because that's much more proper (and who calls their little girl Evan anyway?), they'll know how much of a "saviour" her aunt Elizabeth is and how she was so generous for taking Evan in and giving her a place to stay. They'll know about Evan's "behavioural issues", the yelling, the fighting, the stealing.

And it gets to Evan. Not so much the details on her, because she couldn't care less what the citizens of Eight think about her, but what Aunt Elizabeth says about Evan's father. Addict or not, he was a good man and he loved her. Evan would choose the snowy streets with her father over Aunt Elizabeth's warm home any day. She'd choose empty stomachs and warm arms over a full stomach and radiating coldness from the adult figure supposed to be taking care of her.

It's no secret that her aunt despises her. She hates Evan with a passion but, honestly, the feeling is mutual. Aunt Elizabeth genuinely thinks that she's doing the best for Evan; forcing her to be someone that she's not, and she can never see Evan's side when it's brought up. She doesn't seem to understand how dragging Evan into the spotlight during one of her darkest times, or making her change who she is—even down to her name—is damaging. She'll tell Evan that she's a child, that she doesn't know anything yet.

And Evan might only be thirteen and behind in school, but she knows that her aunt is a moron. There's no disputing that.

But nobody else will see it. Not as long as she's able to keep up this image. Evan's not interested in destroying it completely, but she wants no part in moulding it. She's not going to let her aunt Elizabeth shape her into the person she wants her to be; she's not going to become a poster child of troubled kids turning good. She deserves a lot better than that.

So, she rebels. She's always been a rebellious child, even with her father, but now it's reached greater heights. It's not only talking back or running off in the marketplace anymore, it's punishable offenses. And Evan knows that it's wrong, that her father would probably be disappointed in her, but it's the only way that she can think of to show her aunt Elizabeth up in a public way.

Most people know who she is, and therefore when she's racing down the street being pursued by peacekeepers they know that whatever her aunt Elizabeth is doing isn't working. She manages to get off free the majority of times, her aunt intervening before she can get whipped in the town square, so that only makes it even more enticing. Breaking the law without getting punished is every street urchin's dream, and Evan will take advantage of it for as long as she can.

She never keeps the things that she pickpockets. She'll surrender it without a fight once the peacekeepers catch her, and if they don't then she'll hand it off to someone who needs it more than her. Evan likes to think of herself as a mini Robin Hood, although she knows that it's far from the truth. It makes her feel better about what she does.

It's always fun to do it at night. To see whether she can get in and out of the house without waking anyone up. She's mastered the art of climbing into Bonnie's downstairs bedroom, sneaking out of the toddler's room without making any noise. Evan has learned what stairs and floorboards creak and what quick hiding places there are in case anybody does come out of their room. She's learned a lot of things that she probably shouldn't know, but every bit of it helps. Besides, it's not as if crime is a new concept to her; she watched her father pickpocket more than once.

The morphling he would take wasn't exactly legal, either.

One day she'll stop. When her aunt finally realises that trying to control her really isn't working and lets her be who she really wants to be. Then she'll settle. Evan knows that she's troubled, and she wishes that her aunt would just accept that. But as she sits in this interview room with a journalist and Aunt Elizabeth by her side, she knows that it's not going to be anytime soon.

Because her aunt is spewing the same lies that she's been telling for months; that Evan was unloved, traumatised and worse off in her father's care. Evan knows better than to argue, though. Especially not in front of a journalist. Is it better for Evan to be living with her aunt? Maybe, when it comes to things like food and warmth, but her blood boils at the mere suggestion that she was lacking in love. That was how she got through those days, knowing that her father loved her more than anything. That they'd get through it.

Of course, he didn't, but Evan prefers not to dwell on that.

"My goal when I become mayor," her aunt is saying. "Is to make District Eight a place where children like Evangeline, and God knows that there are so many of them out there, reintegrate back into society and reach their full potential. It'll take time, and it'll be hard, but the children of Eight deserve more than what they're being given."

"And how do you feel about your aunt's campaign, Evangeline?" the interviewer asks, and even the use of that name makes her stomach curl. "Do you think that these social programs she plans to put in place will make a difference? Have the trial sessions worked for you?"

Evan glances at her aunt who's smile contains the hint of a threat, and swallows thickly before answering. "I'm going to be honest," she says, and her aunt blanches. She's started all of her rants in interviews in the same way. Evan doesn't know what her aunt expects; she's always been taught not to lie. "It's all bullshit."

Her aunt places a hand on Evan's upper arm in what may seem like a comforting gesture to the interviewer, but the tight grip doesn't bode well.

"Evangeline…" she warns, raising an eyebrow. "Remember what you've been working on."

Evan rolls her eyes. "I'm only telling the truth!" She argues. "No kid on the streets of Eight is going to turn up to group therapy sessions or youth clubs voluntarily. Not when they can be finding something to eat for dinner or pickpocketing a wallet—"

"I'm so sorry for this," her aunt interrupts. "She's been getting worse as of late," she looks towards Evan. "But it's nothing that we can't sort out with a few more sessions with Dr. Poplin, huh?"

"I—" her aunt cuts her off after barely being able to start her sentence.

"I think it's best that you wait outside, Evangeline," she says. And Evan picks up on the threatening undertone. She looks to the interviewer who nods. "Go and make sure that your cousins are okay."

Evan does as she's told for once, clenching her fists as she storms out of the room. She knows that it won't be covered in the article, at least not word for word. They'll mention she had an outburst, because of course they will. But they'll focus more on how her aunt dealt with it.

As she's sitting in the living room, Bonnie and Reynolds chasing each other around, she wonders if her father would have taken that dose of morphling if he knew what it would get her into.

She likes to think that he wouldn't, but she just doesn't know.

**[Fender Mooves, 16  
****District Six Male.]**

_Two weeks before the reaping_

Fender races through the streets, weaving through the crowds gathered at the marketplace and those just walking down. Behind him his older brother Fforde is running, starting to flag as they race on. But slowing down isn't an option; they're almost late for work and they can't afford to be docked pay yet again. Last time it had been at the expense of ten coins each. That had set them back massively, and their mom had been furious when she found out. Not necessarily at them, but their employer. After all, Fender and Fforde have to go straight from school, and it's not their fault if a teacher runs over.

Luckily, they slid into the shop just as their shifts start and even if they can barely breath as they clock in, they made it on time. Their boss regards them from where he is at the register, but he doesn't say anything other than to tell them to start cleaning up the shop. Both of them do it with no complaint.

Mondays are always slow as people just want to head home after work and go to sleep. Fender can't say that he blames them; he'll be eating and going straight to bed as soon as he gets home as well. But it makes the shift drag, especially once the store is stocked and cleaned and there's nothing to do for the boys other than sit in the corner and attempt to get their homework done.

Fender is glad when the clock finally hits 9PM, and their five hour shift draws to an end. They collect their pay, fifteen coins each, and head out onto the streets. They stop by at the marketplace just before it closes, picking up a few things that their mom asked them to get and then they're finally on the way home.

"Fendie!" Their younger sister squeal as he pushes open the door, throwing herself off of the couch and into his arms. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Rail," he grins, hugging her tight. "Have you been behaving for Mom?"

"Yeah!" She exclaims, and Fender looks up to his mom for confirmation. She nods with a small smile. "We played with the dollhouse you bought me for my birthday!"

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Fender ruffles her hair. "C'mon, dinner is almost ready. We should go get washed up so we don't get our food gross."

Rail is the wild child, the only girl in the family with a personality bigger than her. He doesn't mind helping his mom out with her when he can, since he enjoys spending time with her. When she's calmer, mostly, but she can be fun when she's a little too hyper as well. He's honestly not sure how his mom handles her all day, but she makes it work. And she's raising a great child if he does say so himself.

Once they've washed their hands they take their place at the dinner table. Fforde and their mom wash up, and then they all say grace. Rail leads the prayer this time, and her stumbles and mispronunciations are adorable. She seems so proud of herself when they start eating.

"Did you hear it, Fendie?" She keeps asking. "Did you listen to me?"

"Of course I did," he nods every time she asks. "You were really good. Keep it up and you'll be able to lead the prayers at church soon!"

She quietens down as she concentrates on eating, and Fforde, Fender and their mom use it as a gap to talk about their days. They tell her of their race to work, and she tells them about the antics she got up to with their sister. Fender nods along, beaming at Rail when she interjects.

After dinner, they get Rail settled into bed and that's when the real conversations begin. They count out the money that they have, try and budget it for the next few days. Their job is a shift a week, and even if it pays better than most, it's still not really enough to live on. With their mom out of work for the foreseeable future, what with the injury to her leg, they're down an income.

Whilst Fforde and Fender's wages used to be a welcome addition to the household expenses, they're now a necessary one. But it's the only job that they can get out of school, the only job that pays straight after the shift and not weeks after. Their dad only gets paid every four weeks, and it's nice when that day finally comes but after a few days when the rent is paid and the cupboards aren't empty, it starts to get hard.

But Fender has faith that they can do it. He prays for stability every night and he knows that God is listening. He has to be.

They've managed to keep themselves afloat enough that they haven't had to take tesserae, and that's worth something. They might be struggling a little bit, but they're better off than quite a lot of people in the district regardless. He's seen a lot of people out there who can barely afford enough food to keep them alive. And of course everybody has seen the people who can't even afford that. They're hard to avoid these days.

"You're good boys, you know that?" Their mom says to the two of them as they sit in the living room, Fender trying not to fall asleep. "Rail is so lucky to have both of you. She adores you."

"We adore her," Fforde yawns. "Best decision you and dad ever made in my opinion."

"I second that," Fender says. "Thanks Mom."

She laughs, regarding the two of them with pride. "I'd say we didn't do too badly with you two either. You make us both so proud, and I know that God's proud of you too. You're turning into such fine young men."

"Love you, Mom," Fforde says. "God's proud of you too."

"I hope he is," she chuckles. "Or else my life has been for nothing."

"Ours too," Fender laughs. "If I'm gonna end up in hell then what's the point of all this, you know?"

"You won't," she says, leaning forward and taking a hand each in hers. "I promise."

"We know, Mom," Fforde says. "We know. And we know it'll be good up there."

She nods, and leans back. Fender stretched out across the couch he's laying in, closing his eyes as his eyelids start to get heavy. It's silent for a while, and he turns the remaining energy he has to prayers.

Prayers for his mom and her leg, for Fforde and the test that he has coming up, for Rail that she'll grow up happy and healthy, for his father that his workplace eases the burden on him. Prayers for his friends, for his boss at work, for those that don't have parents or a place to live or enough food. And he casts his mind forward, too.

Prayers for the district because in two weeks it'll be Reaping Day. Prayers for those that come from the Capitol that their trip is safe (because as much as he dislikes them, he'll never wish them harm), prayers for everybody eligible that Reaping Day doesn't take too much of a toll of them. Prayers for the two kids chosen, almost certainly doomed to die, and those Victors who have to mentor them. To the kids from the other districts who find themselves tossed into the arenas (even for the Careers, although they volunteer themselves).

Most importantly for those in Games past. Those who didn't survive. For those who killed, especially. Because ultimately it wasn't their fault. They did what they had to do.

When he finally rolls off of the sofa and heads to bed, he repeats them.

He sleeps soundly that night. Maybe he wouldn't if he knew what his God had in store for him two weeks from now.

**[Prairie Henderson, 14  
****District Eleven Female.]**

_Three days before the reaping. _

The hopelessness has settled over the district already. This morning the town square was roped off and the first hovercrafts appeared, carrying the first lot of Capitol officials ready for the big event on Monday morning. Prairie can't say that she's looking forward to it, but she doesn't understand why people let themselves get so scared that their name will be pulled out. It's a minuscule chance, especially for those on the wealthier side of the district.

Prairie can't relate to them, what with her five slips of tesserae, but if she doesn't worry then why should they? Of course there have been kids with only one slip in there reaped before, but they're few and far between; not enough to worry about. Besides, if one of these kids were reaped then surely their family will be in the position to send them sponsor gifts. That'll give them one up on most of the tributes in that arena; half of them won't see a sponsor gift the entire time they're there.

She'd be screwed should she be reaped, on that front at least. But if she goes at the hands of a Career then that's how she goes. It beats dying of starvation after all. Not that that's anyway to think about it, but she can't say that she'll be devastated if her name is called out on Monday. With a good head on her shoulders, she should be able to make it decently far and that's all she can expect from herself.

Of course she pities those who have been picked before. The affects on those who have been left behind, devastated by the death, is always upsetting. But she just doesn't understand why to some the prospect of the reaping can be such a daunting thing. She's far more scared of other things.

But no matter what Prairie says, Marie won't stop trembling. They'd been fine up until lunch, and then they'd heard someone else talking about the reaping and her friend had spiralled. It had been Prairie trying to talk her down for their past two readings, and she senses that she's going to have to do it again this year. Judging by the reaction of the mere thought of it.

"Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?" Prairie asks. That always makes her feel better when she feels so anxious that she can't breathe. Marie shakes her head. "Okay. We can stay here. Do you want to stay here?"

Marie shakes her head again. Prairie can't blame her; the lunch room is excessively loud.

But Prairie knows exactly where to take her friend, helping her to her feet and carrying both of their backpacks. She leads her hyperventilating friend into the corridor, and then down the hall to a disused art classroom. The door is supposed to be locked, but it never is and after the last set of cuts in the funding to their school the one art teacher had been the first to go. Since then, the room has sat disused. Not enough funding to get it remodelled into a new classroom or hire a teacher.

Less emphasis is being put on what they taught, now. Just if they are being taught. And it doesn't even have to be high quality (as evidenced by Mr. Harrison's dry teaching) just good enough so that they have enough knowledge to pass the tests. Although Prairie doesn't understand why they need to take these tests if all they're going to be doing in life is either picking produce, planting produce, counting produce, or overseeing an orchard. Although that job is more for the peacekeepers these days. They used to only e there to deter thieves, but now they have no issues stepping in whenever they see fit. Pressure has been on the receiving end of that abuse more than once and it isn't pleasant. Not at all.

"I'm feeling better now," Marie says after a few minutes of silence in the empty classroom. Prairie nods. "We'll be fine," she says shakily, repeating what Prairie has been telling her for the past ten minutes. "Right?"

"Of course we will be," Prairie nods. "We've been fine up until now. What's going to stop Monday from being any different? It's just another year."

"Yeah," Marie says. "Thanks, Prairie."

"No problem, Mar," Prairie shrug. "Any time."

The school bell rings, but neither of them move. The classroom won't be checked—and if it does it'll be more students seeking refuge from the long and boring school day—so they're not going to get in trouble. The classes are overpopulated anyway and nobody is going to notice that they're missing. Unless someone snitched on them, but Prairie doubts that since neither of them are particularly relevant in the school hierarchy it'll be a miracle if someone does dob them in, honestly.

"Can I come to yours after school?" Marie asks. "I think Mom isn't going to be back until late again."

"Yeah, of course you can. I don't have work today," Prairie smiles. You don't have to ask, you know. Mom will have you over whenever. She loves you more than she loves me, I swear."

Marie laughs at that, tossing a strand of curly hair over her shoulder. "I don't blame her."

"Me neither," Prairie shrugs. "I love you more than I love myself, too."

"Love you too," Marie says playfully.

The pair of them hang out in the art classroom until their next class, when the slip out and join the crowds in the hallway. They both regret it halfway through the maths lesson, but at least it's the last lesson of the day. They're both cheerful as they leave, collecting Prairie's siblings from their classrooms before they leave the grounds.

Getting back to Prairie's house, they hold up in her small room, hiding away from the neverending questions posed by Prairie's younger siblings. She loves them, but she'll be the first to admit that they're a pain in the ass 90% of the time.

They use the time to get a head start on the homework they've been given for the weekend mostly, but there is also an added element of gossip. It's something that they try not to do at school, given that they don't know who is listening to their conversations, but they're allowed to in Prairie's room. Marie tells her about what she overheard in her English class today, and Prairie tells her about the fight in her science class. They're red faced and giggling by the time that they're headed down for dinner, and Prairie has to stop herself from giggling the entire meal every time she meets Marie's gaze.

After dinner, she sees Marie off and thanks her mom for cooking for Marie once again. She knows that it puts a strain on them; they're just about able to afford their own food, but her mom never complains.

"Mrs. Gala would do the same for you," she says. "If things were better for her. They helped us out last time we fell back in hard times, so I owe them."

"Still," Prairie shrugs. "Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it. Marie does too."

"Go off and get ready for bed, kiddo," her mom smiles, patting Prairie on the back. "You're on bedtime story duty."

And by the time that's done and all of the kids are asleep, she's exhausted and collapses into her own bed. She's vaguely aware of her mom coming in to tuck her in, but she's asleep not long after. And, unlike so many in the districts, her dreams are not centred around what's waiting for them on the other side of the weekend.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this here chapter! Here we met District Eight's rebellious Evangeline Burrell, District Six's best big brother Fender Mooves and District Eleven's greatest friend Prairie Henderson! I'd love to know your thoughts on them; I work hard on these chapters and its nice to get reviews!**

**I'm very sorry for any mistakes; this chapter was written on my phone in the past few hours since I realised if I didn't get this up tonight theres no way it would have been done before Christmas. I have 4AM shift starts for the next few days, plus coursework and stuff to be doing. So, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but likely not in the next week or so. But who knows? I might get lucky!  
**

**If not, I wish you all happy holidays!**

**_-Errabundus_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone. It's been a while. A long while and I'm so, so sorry that I'm coming back with ****_this _****update. I'm summarising this story. Not because I don't care about it, or I don't like the tributes, but it's just too much for me to deal with right now. My mental health took a turn for the worse a little after I posted the last chapter. One thing led to another and I found myself in inpatient up until mid March when I returned to university and was swamped in work. And, of course the whole COVID-19 bullshit. Gee, what a good time to be re-integrating into society, huh? Whilst I now have a lot of time, I'm trying to use it to work on myself and figure things out. I've used most of the time I've been allowed on here creating characters, and I fully intend to continue doing that. It's something refreshing, something without ties, something I don't have to put too much thought into. And that's what it really comes down to; as much as I wish I had the mental energy for this, I just don't. And I wish that I could just wait until I do have enough energy, but whilst things are good, I'm just not there yet and I don't know when I will be. I don't want to leave you guys hanging anymore. So, without further adieu, here are the placements and the final fight. I at least owe that to you guys. **

* * *

BLOODBATH

24th: Volia Grenshaw, 12. _District Three Female._ Killed by Kitana Davenport in the bloodbath.  
**Gosh, what a little darling. I wish I could have written her. If only she didn't end up launching next to Kitana and Niello; there was really no way for her to survive.**  
23rd: Stanley Steinmann, 12. _District Seven "Male". _Killed by Evangeline Burrell in the bloodbath.  
**Stanley was a submitted bloodbath. Still, I think you guys would have loved them. A brilliant little non-binary tribute from Seven with some grand ideas in that head of theirs. If only they hadn't tried to tussle with Evan over that backpack.**  
22nd: Prairie Henderson, 14. _District Eleven Female_. Killed by Kitana Davenport in the bloodbath.  
**Given her introduction, I think a lot of people saw this coming. She was never going to get too far in the Games, not with her gentle and caring nature. If only she didn't try to protect Evan from Kitana.  
**21st: Liah Forture, 18. _District Five Female. _Killed by Niello Forbin in the bloodbath.  
**I'm super upset I never got to write Liah. I think she would have been another fan favourite next to Stanley. But, alas, she was a submitted bloodbath. If only she didn't throw that spear at Niello and miss.  
**20th: Wilhelm Denim, 18. _District Eight Male. _Killed by Prometeo Cordiani in the bloodbath.  
**He was always supposed to be a surprise bloodbath; built up in the pre-games chapters and then killed early on. If only he didn't make that stupid mistake and try to kill a** **career.**  
19th: Whisper Tanner, 12. _District Ten Female. _Killed by Dior Veitch in the bloodbath.  
**The same case as Prairie. She was never going to make it, that much was clear. It might be more of a surprise that she made it this far in the bloodbath, honestly.** **If only she kept hidden in the cornucopia for longer.  
**18th: Fender Mooves, 16. _District Six Male. _Killed by Kitana Davenport in the bloodbath.  
**I think this one was seen happening, too. He was just too sweet for these Games, as with the majority of the tributes here. I just couldn't bring myself to put him any further because I didn't want him to suffer. If only he was able to run faster.  
**17th: Kip Hudson, 18. _District Ten Male. _Killed by Nikia Bardsley in the bloodbath.  
**Kip had a good head on his shoulders, but was still prone to the odd impulse act. In a situation like this, who wouldn't act impulsively? If only he didn't swing that sword clumsily towards Nikia.  
**16th: Cadmus Marshall, 18. _District Two Male. _Killed by Dior Veitch and Niello Forbin in the bloodbath.  
**I always knew that a Career would go in the bloodbath. Unfortunately, Cadmus' arrogance did him no good. If only he hadn't tried to break rank and turn on his own alliance.**

I always planned to have an action-packed and large bloodbath. I think it's forgotten how insane these were in the books, and just how many tributes died. So many of these tributes died before their time and I truly regret not being able to give them their time in the spotlight. Each and every one of these tributes deserved the best, and I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to give this to them.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**NINE.  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Prometeo Cordiani: ONE (Wilhelm Denim)  
Nikia Bardsley: ONE (Kip Hudson)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY ONE

15th: Kiera Drene, 18. _District Seven Female. _Killed by Prometeo Bardsley.  
**I loved Kiera, and I know that you guys did too. She was refreshing, and such a kind girl. For those reasons I knew she wouldn't be making it that far into the Hunger Games, but I couldn't bring myself to kill her off in the bloodbath. If only she had woken up in time to notice the Careers had found her.**

Nothing much was planned to happen on this day. Not after the chaos that would have been the bloodbath. It was mainly supposed to be about establishing the now shaken-up alliances, situating tributes, and all that.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**TEN.  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Nikia Bardsley: ONE (Kip Hudson)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY TWO

14th: Wulf Crane, 18. _District Nine Male. _Killed by a faun mutt.  
**Wulf would have been really fun to write, but I knew that I wouldn't have him getting too far into the Hunger Games. I could never find an alliance that he fit into, and that put him at a disadvantage. If only he hadn't been as curious and had steered clear of the half goat half man creature he saw in the distance.  
**13th: Ryam Driver, _District Three Male. _Killed by a faun mutt.  
**Ryam was a sweet kid, and I was truly excited to write him. It was mainly luck that he managed to survive this far, however. His mother was executed for treason and so he would never have lasted for long; the Capitol made sure of that. If only he had been able to run fast enough.  
**12th: Amaranth Sterling, 17. _District Nine Female. _Killed by Nikia Bardsley.  
**Amaranth was one that I intended would slip into the background. She was introverted, but she was strong and determined. If only she hadn't been so determined to beat a Career when she saw them coming towards her.  
**

Day two was supposed to ease everyone back into the sense of action and adrenaline I wanted to craft within this story. Three deaths is considered a lot in one day, I think, but there was a subplot with the mutts I wanted to try and pull off with the creation of the mutts which was important. I won't detail it just in case I do want to come back and re-use it at some point. Amaranth's death was added here because it was where it fit. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't see her making it past this day.

A note about the mutts: the arena was supposed to be Roman-themed. Hence the faun mutts; a creation of Roman mythology (although heavily borrowed from Greek myth of course). This is why they're fauns, and not the more universally known Greek centaurs. Sorry. I'm just not _that _into Greek history.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**THIRTEEN  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY THREE

11th: Flaw Pansley, 17. _District Eleven Male. _Killed by Greyson King.  
**I had the two of these allied for the longest time. But with both of their hot tempers, I knew that it would only end badly. In the end Greyson had to be the one who survived; he was younger, but a little more rational. If only Flaw hadn't lost his temper.  
**10th: Soliloqui Addams, 18. _District Six Female. _Killed by faun mutt.  
**Again, it was mostly luck that she had even made it this far. The creator wanted her to die early on in the Hunger Games, so I delivered. Honestly, I wanted her to go further but I just couldn't justify it. If only she hadn't been so enraptured by what she saw.  
**

A quieter day with only two deaths. But, important ones. It was always the intention, with a Career Pack like we had, to have them be the forerunners of the deaths. I always planned on them having the majority of the deaths but I knew that it was also important to have other tributes contribute to these. Hence, the spat between Flaw and Greyson.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**FIFTEEN  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: ONE (Flaw Pansley)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY FOUR

No deaths.

Honestly, we all just needed a break lmao. Fifteen deaths in four days is no joke, and whilst these were never supposed to be long Hunger Games, I still wanted some chill time. Here, I was just going to situate the outsider tributes. There's four loners against an entire Career Pack, which isn't exactly an ideal situation. The Career Pack in this story in particular are extremely ruthless, and so I wanted to capture the thoughts of those who were left. There also would have been a POV from good ol' Horatio, but I'm going to save the spicy subplot of the SYOT for the possible future.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**FIFTEEN  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: ONE (Flaw Pansley)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY FIVE

No deaths.

Another spicy subplot chapter. Here, we would also check in with the Career pack, since shit is about to go down the next time we see them, and the last chapter focused on the outsiders. This would also be the last no deaths chapter.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**FIFTEEN  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: ONE (Flaw Pansley)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY SIX

9th: Temperance Quill, 17. _District Twelve Female. _Killed by Greyson King.  
**Temperance was another character that I absolutely loved. I knew that she would get somewhat far, simply because of her ties to Salazar. I didn't introduce them, but they knew each other before the Hunger Games. Ultimately, it was their determination to keep each other safe that got them so far. But I knew that it couldn't last forever, and unfortunately Temperance was the one I had to kill first. If only she hadn't ventures away from the campsite, even if for a split second.  
**8th: Greyson King, 16. _District Five Male. _Killed by Salazar East.  
**I'm sure you would have seen this one coming given the last death. Of course Salazar was going to avenge Temperence. I liked Greyson, and I thought that he had a lot of potential. He was my Victor for a while, but eventually I decided against it. He was just too hot-headed, and being in the arena for days on end is enough to make anyone snap. If only he hadn't been so reckless as to kill Temperance knowing that Salazar was nearby.**

A fairly eventful day. Here we would have checked in with the other remaining outsider, Evangeline, as well as Salazar. There would have been a Capitol POV here, regarding disappointment; the feast is announced after Greyson's death, but nobody goes. Both Evangeline and Salazar _know _that that's walking into a trap. Hoo boy. Buckle up for the next day.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**SEVENTEEN  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: TWO (Flaw Pansley, Temperance Quill)  
Salazar East: ONE (Greyson King)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Prometeo Cordiani: TWO (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene)  
Dior Veitch: TWO (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Kitana Davenport: THREE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves)

* * *

DAY SEVEN PT 1

7th: Salazar East, 18. _District Twelve Male._ Killed by Kitana Davenport.  
**I knew he couldn't hold on too much longer after Temperance's death, and so he had to be the next outsider to go. He hated silence, was loud, and was never a killer. For this reason, I had him going off the rails a little after Temperance's death. It's only a matter of time until you're tracked down in the arena if you're not doing your best to stay hidden. If only he'd stayed low.  
**6th: Niello Forbin, 18. _District One Male. _Killed by Kitana Davenport.  
**It was only a matter of time until the Career Pack split. There was tension at the start due to Cadmus' death, but overall this was a rather competent Career Pack. However, Niello's arrogance was always going to get the better of him. If only he didn't try to argue with Kitana over wanting to kill Salazar.  
**5th: Nikita Bardsley, 18. _District Four Female. _Killed by Prometeo Cordeiani.  
**Here, the order isn't really too important. Nikita was a formidable Career, but the pack were never going to stick together until the end. With so many volatile personalities, the tension during the week was high. It was only a matter of time until everything spilled over and resulted in pretty much an all out war. If only she wasn't stood right by Prometeo when he made his decision.****  
**4th: Prometeo Cordeiani, 18. _District Four Male. _Killed by Dior Veitch.  
**You don't kill your District Partner. That's like, the unspoken rules of the Hunger Games. All jokes aside, it was just his time to go. I'm so disappointed that I didn't get the chance to fully write out this Career Pack. It was made of some pretty amazing characters, I have to say. If only he hadn't killed Nikita.  
**3rd: Dior Veitch, 18. _District One Female. _Killed by wounds given by Prometeo Cordeiani.  
**I really didn't want this death to happen. I loved Dior. But it had to. Paradigm, I just want to stop and thank you for the utterly amazing characters that you sent my way. Both of them were _truly _breathtaking and I really wish that I could have explored them with the depth that they deserved. If only she'd been able to hold on for just a bit longer.**

And here we are, at our finale. Kitana Davenport from District Two, and Evangeline Burrell from District Eight. One of them will _certainly _come as a surprise to you. I will give a final recap of the deaths and kills, and then we will get straight into the final battle.

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**TWENTY TWO  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: TWO (Flaw Pansley, Temperance Quill)  
Salazar East: ONE (Greyson King)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Dior Veitch: THREE (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall, Prometeo)  
Prometeo Cordiani: FOUR (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene, Nikita Bardsley, Dior Veitch)  
Kitana Davenport: FIVE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves, Salazar East, Niello Forbin.)**  
**

* * *

DAY SEVEN PT 2

THE FINALE

**[Kitana Davenport, 18  
****District Two Female].**

She'd hightailed it out of there as soon as things started to get ugly. It was the best move. If she wanted to win she couldn't just wait for the others to battle it out before making her move. They'd go for her if she was there, and despite her skills it's unlikely she would be able to defend herself against the entire pack. Slumping down by a crumbling brick wall once she judged herself far enough from the scene as she needed to be, she takes a swig from her water canteen and tries to collect her racing thoughts.

Kitana hadn't stuck around long after Prometeo had sunk his blade into Nikita's stomach bu,t by the infuriated look on Dior's face, it wasn't something that she wanted to watch anyway. Being away from them heightened her chance of winning at this point. Let them fight for the lower places themselves; she knows _exactly _where she'd going. To the top. Where she belonged. She'd been leader of the Career Pack whilst it lasted and, more than likely anyway, the top of the leaderboard of kills. Five to her name so far, including Niello, and she isn't stupid enough to believe that the tiny girl from Eight who had somehow survived up until this point had wracked up any.

There were kills that were unaccounted for, of course, but that child probably didn't orchestrate any of them. It has been luck. Pure luck that she'd made it this far. Kitana would take care of that swiftly if they came face to face but there's no telling that one of the cannons that have only just started to boom doesn't belong to her.

Kitana counted the cannons quietly. Three. Then one of them must belong to the child. Because there was absolutely no way that _all _of them were dead. Of course, there was nothing stopping that being the case, but Kitana suddenly feels uneasy at the prospect of it. Because what is the appeal of killing a child? She had watched Hunger Games after Hunger Games, finale after finale, and they had been grand and spectacular.

That it would be if she were against someone of her own ilk.

She winced slightly as she climbed to her feet, wrapping an arm cautiously against her waist. She must not have noticed it at the time, adrenaline pumping through her veins but Niello's sword had sliced her side. Rolling up her shirt a little, a quick examination revealed that it wasn't a fatal wound. Painful and inconvenient, but she was sure that whatever Career was still left was in worse shape than her. Niello's had been a half-hearted swing as he tried anything. _Anything._ As he collapsed to his knees, face contorted in pain. Prometeo's lunge towards Nikita had been anything but half-hearted.

Kitana reached the Career Pack's previous spot just as the hum of the hovercraft faded. Patches of blood covered the street that she was stood on, and she looked around frantically to see whether her competitor was approaching. Of course they would have had to vacate so the hovercraft could pick up the body, but they would definitely come back. They would know that she would be waiting for them.

"Prometeo?" She called, stepping forwards. Rubble crunched underfoot. "Dior?"

_There's no way it's Nikita, _she decided as she looked around, peering into a half-collapsed building, _I saw what he did. _

A noise behind her made her stop. They were finally here. She tightens her grip on her trident, whirling around. And what she sees makes a laugh bubble up in her throat.

The child from District Eight had somehow outlived the majority of the Careers? Insanity.

But the laugh that spilled from her lips wasn't one she knew the cause for. Was it the girl and her tiny stature? The realisation that this was not how she wanted it to plan out? A nervous laugh because what the hell is she supposed to do now? The moment that she had been waiting for her entire life; the glory, the fame, the _perfection... _it had been so close, yet so far.

The girl launched first.

A dagger gripped in her tiny fist, she made a run up to the mostly collapsed wall to Kitana's right, propelling herself from it and toward her. Kitana managed to dodge the attack successfully, the girl and dagger missing her narrowly. Turning around, Kitana wasted no time.

The girl landed, unbalanced and back to Kitana as the older girl advanced. Eight whipped around just in time to see Kitana's trident heading towards her, dropping into the dust and leaning to the side to misdirect Kitana's swing. One of the prongs grazed the girl's shoulder, and she let out a cry of pain as she crawled forward and swiped at Kitana's ankle with her dagger.

Kitana hisses as the dagger makes contact, but the cut on the younger girl's shoulder was obviously something that was paining her, for there was no real pressure to the attack. Instead, Kitana brang up her foot, smashing it into the girl's chin who toppled backward with a scream.

"You're a bitch!" The girl seethed, blood dribbling onto her neck as she struggles against the foot Kitana was now using to pin her down.

"At least my family will be proud of me," Kitana retorted, angling her trident downward. She didn't remember much about the girl other than that she was the niece of the mayor. An orphan living with her aunt, or something like that, with rumours that the girl's aunt was the one who rigged her in. Of course, that was courtesy of the gossip panels that ran late at night so she didn't know how true that was. The renewed fury on the girl's face as she registered the words tells her that they're at least somewhat accurate.

Maybe it was a low blow, but they're in a deathmatch. This wasn't exactly the place for niceties.

She couldn't so much speak for her parents (could she even call them that after Kallis' reveal that they were adopted as he said goodbye?), but she knew that Kallis at least would be proud of her. And he was the only family that she needed.

"At least I knew my real parents." The girl writhes as Kitana presses her foot down harder. The words took Kitana aback, and just that brief moment of distraction was all that the girl needed to somehow manage to plunge her dagger in Kitana's ankle.

Her final act of defiance.

A split second later and Kitana's trident had entered the girl's skull, and a cannon boom as Kitana fell hard on the ground, a guttural cry leaving her as her head spins. She had to give it to the girl; it was a good move. And _fuck _did it hurt.

But there was some solace; the trumpets begin to blare. Her name was read out as the Victor of the 97th Hunger Games.

She slumped backward, staring up at the claw as it reached down towards her. To get her out of here finally. To put an end to the longest seven days that she had ever faced.

There's one thought in the back of her mind as she allows herself to be hoisted up: _what now?_

Her goal had been achieved. She'd been perfect. She'd won.

So what was she supposed to do now?

* * *

2nd: Evangeline Burrell, 13. _District Eight Female_. Killed by Kitana Davenport.  
**This might be a startling choice for second place for a lot of you, but I honestly _loved_ Evan. For a long time, she was my Victor; she had it all, the spunkiness, the rebelliousness, the story line to carry on with after the Hunger Games, but overall it just wasn't realistic. Yes, she could lay low and tough it out for the majority of the Hunger Games but she just didn't have it in her to win. Especially against a Career. I mean... she was thirteen. Still, for the 1,500 words of introduction that I got to write her for, I loved it. She was truly a great tribute. If only she had been a match for Kitana.**

1st: Kitana Davenport, 18. Victor of the 97th Hunger Games.  
**Oh my God. I don't know where to start with Kitana. She was simply a stunning tribute and the only real contender for Victor in the end. I know that this is the only time that I have written her, and I know that it might not have been my best work but it was fun. It was enjoyable to figure out, enjoyable to write and whilst there are some things I just wish that I could have explored more with her, I'm glad for the tiny about of the spotlight I was able to thrust on her. Kitana is easily one of the best tributes that I was submitted, and it's for that reason that she eventually became Victor. When things are better, I desperately want to make some sort of a sequel for this, a SYOT that I finish properly, and I'm super excited to potentially explore Kitana post Victory. Thank you Paradigm for this wonderful girl, from the bottom of my heart.**

TOTAL DEATHS:  
**TWENTY THREE  
**TOTAL KILLS:  
Evangeline Burrell: ONE (Stanley Steinmann)  
Greyson King: TWO (Flaw Pansley, Temperance Quill)  
Salazar East: ONE (Greyson King)  
Nikia Bardsley: TWO (Kip Hudson, Amaranth Sterling)  
Niello Forbin: TWO (Liah Fortrue, Cadmus Marshall)  
Dior Veitch: THREE (Whisper Tanner, Cadmus Marshall, Prometeo)  
Prometeo Cordiani: FOUR (Wilhelm Denim, Kiera Drene, Nikita Bardsley, Dior Veitch)  
Kitana Davenport: FIVE (Volia Grenshaw, Prairie Henderson, Fender Mooves, Salazar East, Niello Forbin, Evangeline Burrell)

Final Placings:  
24th: Volia Grenshaw, 12. _District Three Female. _0 kills.  
23rd: Stanley Steinmann, 12. _District Seven "Male". _0 kills.  
22nd: Prairie Henderson, 14. _District Eleven Female_. 0 kills.  
21st: Liah Forture, 18. _District Five Female. _0 kills.  
20th: Wilhelm Denim, 18. _District Eight Male. _0 kills.  
19th: Whisper Tanner, 12. _District Ten Female. _0 kills.  
18th: Fender Mooves, 16. _District Six Male. _0 kills.  
17th: Kip Hudson, 18. _District Ten Male _0 kills.  
16th: Cadmus Marshall, 18. _District Two Male. _0 kills.  
15th: Kiera Drene, 18. _District Seven Female. _0 kills.  
14th: Wulf Crane, 18. _District Nine Male. _0 kills.  
13th: 13th: Ryam Driver, _District Three Male. _0 kills.  
12th: Amaranth Sterling, 17. _District Nine Female. _0 kills.  
11th: Flaw Pansley, 17. _District Eleven Male. _0 kills.  
10th: Soliloqui Addams, 18. _District Six Female. _0 kills.  
9th: Temperance Quill, 17. _District Twelve Female. _0 kills.  
8th: Greyson King, 16. _District Five Male. _2 kills.  
7th: Salazar East, 18. _District Twelve Male. _1 kill.  
6th: Niello Forbin, 18. _District One Male. _2 kills.  
5th: Nikita Bardsley, 18. _District Four Female. _2 kills.  
4th: Prometeo Cordeiani, 18. _District Four Male. _4 kills.  
3rd: Dior Veitch, 18. _District One Female. _3 kills.  
2nd: Evangeline Burrell, 13. _District Eight Female_. 1 kill.  
1st: Kitana Davenport, 18. _District Two Female. _6 kills.

* * *

**And... there we go. This story is, for better or for worse, complete. I want to say again how sorry I am for just disappearing like that; I had limited access to the internet where I was and I preferred to use that to create characters since it was less energy that weaving subplots and figuring out alliances and just... writing a story in general. I understand how disappointed most of you must be but I can't just leave you guys hanging anymore.**

**I've been working on this chapter for over a week now, and I'm just glad to have it done and ready to go out.**

**I sincerely hope that however disappointed you are, that you still somewhat enjoyed this and you are happy with the outcomes. Thank you so much for waiting and for sending me your lovely tributes. I truly do wish that I could explore them but it's unfortunately just not an option for me. Writing this chapter was exhausting enough. **

**It's 2 in the morning but I just couldn't sleep without finally getting this out. I hope that all of you have had a good day, and I hope that you're all staying safe throughout this pandemic.**

**Thanks, as always, for reading. **

**Errabundus. **


End file.
